


See The Fire In Your Eyes

by ratonnhhaketon



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Kidnapping, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, and he doesn’t get sick, don’t worry Arthur does not die, potential smut who knows, within the first chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22427524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratonnhhaketon/pseuds/ratonnhhaketon
Summary: Catherine Hays grew up in a picture-perfect, high society family in Virginia. She had her whole life planned out for her and was about to get married to a man she could not stand. When her brother uncovers a murder plot and has to pay with his own life, Catherine decides she can’t continue playing along.She takes control of her own destiny and goes south to a pretty little town called Blackwater.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Original Character(s), Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character(s), Arthur Morgan/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	1. Virginia

The clinking of cutlery on dishes and light chatter filled the dining room of the Hays Estate. Occasionally a small laugh would escape Catherine as a result of some ridiculous face or stupid comment her brother sitting next to her would make. 

As she took a sip of her wine, Reid made a mocking face at their father who was discussing business plans with their guest- Mr. Elliot Foster- and Catherine snorted into the liquid. Immediately she brought her napkin up to wipe the drink off of her nose and mouth and shot a glare at her brother. Her face became bright red as the chatter turned into silence and the focus in the room turned to her. She mumbled a small “sorry” to everyone at the table before lightly kicking her sibling in the shin. 

Richard, the head of the Hays household, spoke up, “How are the wedding preparations coming along, you two?” 

Catherine felt her stomach twist into knots at the mention of the event alone, but the feeling got even worse when Calvin Foster, her fiancé, lightly put a hand on her thigh under the table. She contemplated moving it but figured it would not end well for her if she tried. 

“Absolutely wonderful,” he spoke with a picture-perfect smile. ”There is a lovely gazebo on my father’s property for the ceremony.” 

Catherine cleared her throat before speaking up, “Mother and I are going to the tailors this week to do a final fitting for my dress.” 

Her father nodded approvingly before taking a drink from his own glass. “We will have to finish the invitations soon. Don’t want to wait too long to send those out.” 

Calvin’s father said something to Richard that made both of the older men share a loud chuckle, but Catherine had stopped paying attention. She was now focusing on the thumb that was lightly rubbing at the fabric of her dress on her leg. Not being able to deal with his touch any longer, Catherine began to shift uncomfortably in an attempt to get him to stop. This only made matters worse as he gripped her leg so tightly that it was sure to leave marks later on. She gripped her fork tighter as a result of the pain, trying desperately not to bring attention to herself. 

Reid, however, had picked up on how his sister was visibly uncomfortable and how Calvin’s hand was definitely not in his own lap, and decided to help. “Um, Calvin,” he spoke up, immediately getting the attention of the dark-haired man. “Could you please pass the rolls?” 

Calvin reluctantly removed his hand from Catherine’s thigh and handed over the basket of bread sitting in front of him. Catherine took this opportunity to scoot her chair closer to the table and cross her legs under the piece of furniture. She gave her brother a look of thanks, to which he replied with a small smile. The rest of the dinner went fairly smoothly, Calvin only being somewhat controlling and overbearing on Catherine.

When the sun had fully settled past the horizon and the sky was a dark blue, the Foster family had decided it was time to head home. Everyone said goodbye with hugs and handshakes, but Calvin made a point to squeeze Catherine’s butt lightly during their embrace. She shot him a glare when they parted and he only smirked. 

After their guests had left Catherine and Reid retired to their own rooms for the night. The older sibling had just finished changing out of her dress and into her chemise when her younger brother knocked on her door. “Come in!” she said as she finished putting her clothes away and sat on her bed. 

Reid closed the door behind him and sighed. “Are you alright?” 

She nodded before speaking up. “Yes.. I’ll be fine.” 

He moved to sit next to her. “Catherine, I.. Something just doesn’t feel right. I know you probably won’t believe me since I have no way of proving it, but I have a feeling that Calvin isn’t who he seems.”

“I know, I know. I don’t trust him either, but.. I can’t go against father’s wishes.” Catherine sighed and ran a hand over her face. “Can I ask why you think this?”

“I believe he’s planning something. Some kind of.. big plan that will get him more money or power or, hell, probably both.” He stood up from his seat on the bed. “Think about it: he’s the first born of his family and is probably going to inherit his father’s company in a few years. The _only_ one keeping him from taking over and expanding right this second is his father.” 

She focused on a loose thread in her chemise while she thought about what he said. “He doesn’t seem like a murderer. I mean, yes, he does make me uncomfortable just by standing in my presence, and he thinks he can control me just because we are going to be married, but you don’t _really_ think he’d take someone’s life, do you? Especially his own _father_?” 

Reid folded his arms. “I don’t know, maybe. I just.. I wouldn’t put it past him. I guess what I’m trying to say with this is to play your cards carefully.” 

Catherine got up from the bed and crossed the space between them. She put a hand on his shoulder and said with a smile, “Thank you, Reid. I appreciate you looking out for me.” She glanced at the clock on the wall, noticing that it was getting late. “Well, I should get to bed. Busy day tomorrow.” 

* * *

When Catherine awoke two days later she was surprised to find that Reid was not in his bedroom. He always woke up later than her and she had the fun task of dragging him out of bed for breakfast each morning. 

She went downstairs and asked the servants if any of them had seen him. None of them were able to help her.

When Catherine walked into the dining room her mother, Annie, grabbed her attention. “Darling, did you wake Reid yet? He is supposed to be leaving with your father in an hour.” 

She sighed and plucked a strawberry off of one of the plates sitting in the middle of the table. “No, he was not in bed when I went into his room and no one has said they’ve seen him.” 

Annie immediately became worried but tried her best to hide her emotions. “Well, it is possible he left to do something before everyone woke up. Let’s hope he is back soon.” 

* * *

They received the news three days later. Reid’s body had been found at the bottom of the river.

When they brought his body in, however, it was so much worse than Catherine could have anticipated. They had failed to mention until the in-person meeting that he had been decapitated and his head could not be found. 

Just looking at his headless body was enough to make her nauseous, but thinking about what Calvin could have done to his missing appendage brought her lunch back up. 

After spilling her guts over the porch’s railing, Catherine returned inside to the parlor room. As she entered a younger policeman approached her and pulled a small envelope from his pocket. “We found this on the body. It’s addressed to you.” 

She took the letter with a shaky hand and moved to sit down in the armchair pushed to the corner of the room, away from the rest of the crowd. As she opened the piece of paper she immediately recognized the shaky, uneven handwriting of her left-handed little brother. 

_My dear sister,_

_I wish I could deliver this message in person but I am afraid that someone will overhear the conversation. I have a strong suspicion that Calvin is going to act tonight and I want to be there to make sure he is caught red-handed. I will be leaving when everyone has retired to bed as to not rouse suspicion from father._

_Please do not worry about me, I can-_

The words abruptly stopped, the end of the letter being dragged out across the page. Catherine drew in a deep breath, knowing this must have been the point where Calvin took him. 

The handwriting changed to a much neater style as the letter continued. 

_Oh, my dear, it was very wrong of you two to meddle in my private affairs. What happens in my family is of no concern to you for another two weeks, so please keep this whole matter to yourself. And if you decide you cannot keep yourself quiet, I can make several more important people to you disappear. And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?  
_

_P.S. Your family needs to get better at being sneaky when lurking around large estates. Your brother, here, was very sloppy in his “investigations.”_ _  
_

_Your love,_

_C. F._

The end of the letter was splattered with a little bit of blood, which she assumed had to have been Reid’s. She wanted to show the letter to the policemen and get Calvin to pay for what he did, but she couldn’t risk something similar happening to the rest of her family. Even if he was arrested, he had enough power in this city to somehow get the charges dropped. 

Instead she folded the letter back up and went to her room to hide it. 

* * *

A few hours later Calvin had arrived at the house, not doubt to act like he was giving his condolences to the family. Upon seeing him enter Catherine immediately felt her stomach turn. 

Her parents greeted him in the foyer of the house, grief still apparent on their faces. “Mr. and Mrs. Hays, I am so sorry for your loss. I can only imagine how hard things must be for you right now.” 

Richard placed a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, my dear boy. These past few hours have been rough, there is no denying it.” 

“We were just about to have dinner, will you please join us?” Annie said with tears in her eyes. 

“Of course.” Calvin smiled. He turned slightly and spotted his fiancée out of the corner of his eye. “If you will please excuse me, I must go speak with Catherine.” 

As the attention in the room shifted to her she straightened her posture and pretended to be happy to see Calvin. “Hello, sweetheart,” she said with a fake smile. 

Calvin rested a hand on her back to lead her into the study and she felt her skin burn under his touch. Her head was spinning with a million thoughts and she wanted to do nothing more than punch him in the face. 

He closed the door behind them and Catherine felt ready to scream. “ _What the hell do you think you’re doing here?!”_ She almost yelled. He extended a hand out to her but she pulled her arm away before he could. “Do not fucking touch me.” 

“Catherine,” he began. God, his voice felt like venom in her ears. “Keep your voice down unless you want one of your lovely parents to end up like your rat of a brother.” Her jaw clenched at the mention of her sibling. “Now, have you kept your mouth shut?” 

She muttered a small “Yes” between gritted teeth. 

“Good,” he said with a sly smile. “Now, I understand you are upset but you need to keep acting like the wonderful woman your parents know if you want tonight to go well. If you raise any amount of suspicion, well, I’m sure you know how it will end.” 

She stared directly at him, disgust evident on her face. “Why did you do it?”

He chuckled. “Because, my love, he was going to ruin my plans. He would have prevented me from obtaining the _one thing_ I have wanted my entire life, and I already have to push my plans back because of his meddling.”

“You cannot wait another, what, five years? Your father’s drinking and gambling is going to kill him soon enough.” 

He ran a hand through his hair. “Because I have waited long enough!” His voice was getting louder and Catherine took a step back from him. “Twenty-seven years is more than enough time to have to wait for the one thing you want in life!” 

With every step Catherine took he advanced on her until she was backed up against the wall. She looked at him, equal parts angry and scared, and said flatly, “You are a monster.”

The angry fire in his brown eyes flared and immediately his hand flew to her throat. He put enough pressure on her to keep her in place but not enough to leave a mark. Her hands grabbed at his in an attempt to pry it off. “And you will be stuck with me for the rest of you life, no matter what you try to do about it.” 

Before Catherine had a chance to reply a voice from the other side of the wooden door spoke up. “Ms. Hays, Mr. Foster, dinner is served.” 

She glared at him and he released her. She coughed a little, stifling it with her hand, before saying, “Thank you, we will be right out!” 

* * *

Catherine had decided that night that she could not carry out the wedding. Yes, it would be going against her father’s wishes, but she had to make this decision for herself. She would not be able to look at Calvin the same way after knowing what he did to her family. 

She needed to leave Virginia. 

Catherine waited until the house had quieted down and the servants had retired to bed before executing her plan. She had gathered all of the money she had saved in a box under her bed and stuffed it into her bag. A few hundred dollars should be enough to keep her on her feet for a while. It had to be enough, as she could not take the chance of writing to her family and asking for more. 

She grabbed extra clothes, including expensive dresses that she could sell if money became tight, and stuffed them into her suitcase. Before leaving, she snuck into Reid’s room down the hall to grab something to remember him by. On his nightstand sat a picture of the two of them, at least 10 years younger, making ridiculous faces. Their parents had dragged them to the local photographer and forced them to take a family portrait. Catherine and Reid, like most children, were not fans of this idea and were complaining the entire time. That is, up until their parents agreed to let them do a “silly picture”, which led to the kids giggling and sticking their tongues out for the photo. 

Catherine smiled lovingly at the photograph for a moment before tucking the frame into her bag and leaving the room. She made her way down the steps, being careful to avoid the creaky one towards the bottom, before slipping out the front door. 

“Oh, Ms. Hays, I didn’t expect to see you leaving this late.” Catherine froze in position as a voice spoke up behind her. She turned slowly, smiling nervously as she met eyes with William, her family’s stagecoach driver. “I was just headed out myself, I could give you a ride if you would like?” 

She cleared her throat and tried to calm her nerves. “Y-yes, that would be lovely. Thank you, William.” 

He opened the door to the coach and Catherine hopped in. “So where are you headed this late at night?” 

Catherine considered making up a lie, but seeing as she would be out of the state before William got a chance to tell her parents, she figured she might as well tell the truth. “The train station.” 

“Where are you off to, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Somewhere out of this state. The whole situation with Reid has made me realize I need to get out of here.” 

“Well, I wish you good luck and safe travels, Ms. Hays.” 

The rest of the ride to the train station was quiet, and Catherine used it to get one last look at the world around her. Yes, she definitely would miss the scenery of Virginia, and those working for her family, but definitely not Calvin. She hoped and prayed that he would befall the same fate as her brother, though he didn’t deserve a proper funeral. 

The stagecoach stopping and her door opening pulled her out of her thoughts. William extended a hand to help her out of the vehicle, to which she accepted, and he grabbed her bags for her. He sat them down on the bench as she went to the window to pay for a ticket. 

“Good evening, miss. Where will it be?” The clerk had a very happy voice, despite probably not wanting to still be working in the middle of the night. 

“I’ll take one for the farthest place south of here.” 

“Ah, Blackwater down in West Elizabeth. A fine choice.” He stamped something on a yellow ticket before sliding it under the metal bars. “Better board soon, we’ll be leaving shortly.” 

Catherine grabbed the ticket and returned to where William was standing next to her luggage. “Thank you again, William. For everything you’ve ever done for me and my family.” 

The older man smiled behind his greying mustache and engulfed the woman in a hug. “It’s only my job, Ms. Hays, but you are more than welcome.” 

When they parted Catherine had tears in her eyes. “When my parents start worrying about me, tell them I’m sorry but I had to make this decision on my own. And that I love them both so very much.” 

He smiled once again. “Of course.” William looked over at the train as passengers started getting on. “Well, you better be leaving. Safe travels.” 

Catherine picked up her bags and let out a breath she did not know she was holding as her feet carried her to the train. She gave one last look around at the scenery she grew up with before boarding the locomotive. 

Today marked the beginning of her new life. 


	2. Three Of A Kind

Blackwater was vastly different than any city Catherine had ever visited. It was dry, most of the streets were dirt, and it always smelled a little bit like horse shit. But, it was her new home and she learned to get used to it quickly. 

Her first mission upon arriving in the new city was to find temporary housing. Ultimately, she would like to find an apartment to solidify her new life, but for now she chose to rent a hotel room. After walking through the streets she found a hotel across the street from the saloon and decided to spend the night there. She booked a room for the next week and headed straight up. 

The room was small but would satisfy her needs. It had a bed with nightstands on either side, a dresser, and a fireplace that seemed to have been snuffed out recently. She put her luggage down by the dresser and sat down on the bed. The mattress wasn’t the softest thing she’d ever slept on, but it would have to do. 

Catherine rubbed her hands over her face and sighed. This was the first time she was truly able to think about the past few days, seeing as she was asleep for most of the train ride the previous night, and all of the emotions she refused to let surface finally broke through. 

She cried, not caring how loud she was or who would hear her. Reid, her baby brother and the closest friend she ever had, was  _ gone.  _ He was gone and she didn’t even stay for the burial. On the one hand, she hated herself for not giving him the final goodbye he deserved, but she also knew that she would not have lasted being in Calvin’s presence one more time. 

_ Calvin.  _ That absolute bastard was the reason all of this had to happen. She was disgusted at not only the fact that he killed her brother and was planning to kill his own father, but the fact that he so perfectly hid that side of himself. Who knows how long he was sitting on the decision to take another person’s life? 

Her thoughts then drifted to her parents. She felt guilty for not telling them anything that was going on. About Calvin mistreating her, the true reason behind her brother’s death, or even explaining why she needed to leave her old life behind. Catherine hoped, only for a moment, that they would track her down and write to them. But then she realized that if they found her, it was almost impossible for  _ him  _ not to track her down as well. And she did not even want to think about what he would do to her for running from their marriage. 

After calming herself down enough, Catherine wiped her eyes on her sleeves and stood up. She would not dwell on the past any longer. This was the start of her new life and she was going to begin it now. 

She picked up her suitcase and put it on the bed, throwing the top open in the process. Inside were various dresses, chemises, boots, and jewelry. She shuffled some clothes around before finding the one pair of pants she owned: simple, black pants that she bought so she didn’t have to ride sidesaddle on her stallion back home. Seeing as she would need to buy a horse from the local stables to get around, she was very thankful that she remembered to grab the garment before leaving. 

Catherine undid the buttons on her skirt and let it fall to the floor before wiggling into her pants. After fastening the button and making sure everything was smooth, she grabbed her pair of black riding boots and slipped them on as well. 

Her first order of business was to head to the saloon and ask around for some work. 

She made her way down to the street outside and crossed the road to her destination. It was just around noon so not too many people would be drinking just yet. 

Catherine walked up to the bar and greeted the man behind the counter. He gave her a polite smile and greeting while drying shot glasses. “Do you happen to know where I could pick up some extra money? Like odd jobs and such?” 

He placed the glass he was cleaning down on the counter. “The sheriff is always looking for help on bounty missions and if you’re skilled with a bow the butcher always appreciates a good deer or elk.” 

Catherine tapped her fingers on the counter as she thought. Neither of those sounded particularly fun, but she would need a way to live if she was going to stay down here. She looked around the bar for a moment and spotted a poker table near the window.  _ Perfect.  _ She knew the ins and outs of the game like the back of her hand, learning early on in life how to play from her father. This was her ticket to success. 

After ordering a whiskey and thanking the bartender for his help, she walked over to the men at the table and smiled. “Afternoon, gentlemen. Mind if I join?” 

The men around the table gladly accepted and dealt her into the game as she sat down. Everyone introduced themselves as they placed their bets. She learned that the two men sitting on either sides of her were Thomas and Alvin, and the man across from her dealing was Jackson. 

“So,” Thomas, the tall, buff man sitting to her right, spoke up. “What’s a pretty little woman like yourself doing out here all alone?” Catherine’s stomach turned at the term he used for her. 

“Just trying to enjoy my afternoon and make some money in the process.” She picked up her cards and resisted the urge to smile. A pair of aces. This was gonna be easy. 

The group played a few games, Catherine winning all but one of them, before the men were visibly disgruntled over not having won anything. Knowing that being $30 richer was a very good start, she decided it was time to leave. She bid the gentlemen goodnight before getting up and walking out of the tavern. 

As she walked back to her hotel she felt someone following her. She ignored it at first, but when she noticed the sound of footsteps behind her she cautiously turned over her shoulder. 

She saw Thomas about ten feet away and he did not look happy. She kept walking, faster this time, until he caught up to her and grabbed her arm. He yanked her arm back, causing her to spin around and almost fall into him. “GET OFF OF ME!” She yelled, hoping a lawman would be near to help her. 

His grip became tighter as she struggled in his grasp. “I don’t know what game you thought you was playing, but we don’t ’preciate cheatin’ in this town.” His voice was low in almost a growl, and his eyes were hidden from the shadow of his hat. 

She winced at the pain in her wrist. “I-I can give you back your money! Just fucking let go of me!” 

He released her and she fell backwards onto the stone sidewalk. “Keep the damn money. But if I see you playin’  _ my _ game again, it won’t end pretty.” 

Catherine watched as he walked back off in the direction of the saloon. She sat on the ground for a minute, shaken up and trying to steady her breathing, before getting up and practically running back to the hotel. 

* * *

The next morning Catherine headed down to the tailor with one of the expensive dresses she had in her suitcase. The man working was ecstatic to see the garment, immediately knowing it was from a well-regarded dressmaker in Virginia, and offered her $150 for it. The actual garment was worth over $250, but she couldn’t complain. 

She decided it would be a good idea to buy a horse and some weapons just to be safe. After the incident last night she knew she would need a way to defend herself. 

The gunsmith recommended a simple pistol and hunting knife, as well as the appropriate belt and holsters. At first she was contemplating not buying ammunition for the gun, seeing as taking another person’s life was the last thing she wanted to do, but she decided it was a good decision to get at least one box. 

Admittedly, she did feel safer knowing she had a way of self defense, especially after the man working showed her how to use it when she sheepishly admitted she had never owned one. But there was also a part of her that was terrified of the possibility of having to use it. She could never see herself as a killer, especially after knowing Calvin did it so casually and treated it almost as if he enjoyed it. 

She tried to shake the thoughts from her mind as she walked into the general store in search of supplies for her horse. Her mind was still racing as she entered the shop, and she almost didn’t notice the man walking out and directly towards her. 

She stopped when she was about a foot away from him, looking up to meet his blue shirt and black neckerchief. The man, standing about half a foot taller than her, looked down at her and smiled behind his worn leather hat. “S’cuse me, miss,” his gruff voice said as he moved past her and out the door. 

Catherine stood in place for a moment, shocked by the man that just passed her. She hoped, just a little, that he would turn back around into the store so she could see him again. Continuing up to the counter, she pushed the thought out of her mind and focused on buying what she was here for. 

* * *

After her shopping trip Catherine decided she needed to find another way to make money besides poker until the situation with Thomas calmed down a bit. She thought over her options and decided that bounties were off the table. The possibility of dying or having to kill another person definitely did not seem appealing, so she decided to try her hand at hunting. 

Killing an animal was something people outside of cities did all the time to live, so how hard could it be? 

It was much, much harder than she expected, both physically and emotionally. Seeing as she didn’t have a bow, she had to try to kill with her hunting knife. This meant small game was the only logical choice and their tiny bodies moved a lot faster than expected.

But she did happen to get lucky with two rabbits that she managed to catch off guard. After turning around a tree trunk as fast as possible, Catherine seized the small animal by the feet and held it to the ground. With a shaky hand she lined up the knife with the animal’s neck. Her head immediately turned to the side and her eyes clamped shut as the blade went straight through skin and muscle. A small, final squeak escaped the animal as it’s life was stripped from it in one swift motion. 

Catherine lifted the blade out of the animal and opened her eyes, regret and sorrow bubbling up inside her as she looked at the tiny carcass beneath her hand. 

“I.. am so sorry,” she said in a whisper. She knew that the kill was not in vain and that the butcher would use every part of its body, but it still felt wrong to take the life of another being, even if it was just a small animal. 

After taking a second to breathe and collect herself, Catherine stood up and took the animal back to her horse. She secured it tightly to the side of the saddle and tried for another. 

The next hour was slow and aggravating, but the second kill came easier. Granted, killing was still not something she wanted to do, but she was more okay with it. 

Having secured the second rabbit and mounting her Tennessee Walker, Catherine rode back into town and straight to butcher. The $7 she got as payment was certainly not bad, but she wished she was able to go after bigger animals to get more money back. 

Nightfall was starting to approach while she left her horse at the stables for the night. As she started heading back towards the hotel, she spotted a group of three men walking into the saloon. Normally she wouldn’t care about men going to get drunk, but the man she saw from the general store earlier that day was one of them. 

Catherine waited until they entered the building to cross the street and follow them in. Upon entering, she made a beeline straight for the bar to order a drink. The bartender slid her a bottle of whiskey and she popped the cork before doing a scan over the crowd. The room was more packed than the previous night, but she found her target with ease. 

The man in the blue shirt was sitting at the poker table with two other men, one of them looking dirty and greasy. The other, however, was a stark contrast. He looked groomed and held himself at a very high self esteem, no doubt the leader of their group. And those  _ rings.  _ Bright gold stood out on almost all of his fingers, shimmering in the dim light of the saloon. This had to be her big break. If she did it last night with a bunch of drunks, it couldn’t be too difficult to do it again. 

She fixed her hair, running her hands through the auburn locks to get rid of any tangles, before sauntering over to the group. The three men were engaged in conversation, the ringleader letting out a hearty chuckle at something one of the others said. “Good evening, gentlemen,” she said with a smile. “Can I interest all of you in a game?” She gestured down to the deck of cards sitting on the table. 

The man in the blue shirt sat up and looked to the man sitting to his right. The dark-haired man shared a glance with him before turning back to Catherine. “Alright, why not?” He smiled and passed the deck to the man sitting on his right. “John, you deal first.” 

She sat down in the chair between the man in the blue shirt and who she now knew as John and gathered her chips to buy-in. 

“I don’t think I caught your name,” the man sitting across from her spoke up as he looked at his cards. He tried to hide a sly smirk as she looked at them, but Catherine was able to notice it. 

“Cathrine Hays,” she said with a smile, throwing in a few chips for her bet. 

“Well, Miss Hays, it is a pleasure.” He gestured to himself, “I’m Dutch van der Linde and this is Arthur and John.” The two men sitting to her sides nodded when their names were announced. 

Despite going easy on them for a couple games, Arthur was the first to drop out. He decided he’d rather “sit back and watch” rather than play, so Dutch slid him some money to get the table a round of drinks. When he returned he handed Catherine another bottle of whiskey. Their hands brushed for just a moment as she accepted the beverage, her face immediately heating up at the contact. 

As they played, Catherine played to her strong suits. She was able to go three games without losing, and John had finally swallowed his pride and given up. Dutch, however, was not giving up so easily. He was determined to win no matter what. 

“Tell you what, Mr. Van der Linde,” Catherine smiled. “We play one more game. If you win, I’ll give you my silver pocket watch. If I win, I get one of those rings.” 

She heard Arthur chuckle and John let out a low whistle beside her. Dutch’s eyes narrowed and he passed the deck to her. “That sounds like a deal.” 

Before they even had time to place their first bets down, the door to the saloon swung open. Thomas, the man from the night before, stomped in and made a beeline to Catherine. She felt her heart speed up with every step he took towards her. 

He stopped inches from her and pulled her up by the collar to his face. “What did I tell ya ‘bout playin’ MY GAME?!” His voice roared. He reeked of alcohol and sweat. Her hands immediately went to his wrist and tried to pry it off of her shirt. 

The men sitting at the table instantly stood up to defend her. “Okay, sir, why don’tcha  jus’ put the lady down and we talk this over like civilized folk?” Arthur’s voice was calm as his hand slowly reached for his pistol. 

Before Thomas had a chance to reply, Catherine swung her right hand as far back as possible and punched him straight in the throat. He immediately dropped her before stumbling back and struggling to breathe. She fell to the floor behind her and John bent down to help her back to her feet. 

Before the assailant was able to regain his composure, Catherine grabbed his hand and bent the wrist backwards as far back as it would go without breaking. “Don’t you EVER think about laying another finger on me,” she said through gritted teeth. “If I ever see you anywhere near this establishment, I will not hesitate to break every bone in your body. Got it?” 

He nodded rapidly and gripped the hand she had pinned until she let go. Without missing a beat, he immediately ran out the door and down the street, vanishing into the night. 

At this point everyone in the saloon was watching, some backing away from Catherine in fear. She turned back to the poker table, seeing Dutch, Arthur and John visibly shocked and impressed at her display. After looking between the men for a split second, she dug around in her pocket before slamming a dollar on the table. “Here, for the drinks,” she said quickly and walked out the door. 

The group of men looked at each other for a few seconds before Dutch headed out of the building, the two others following closely behind. They found Catherine a few buildings down the street leaning against the wall with her head in her hands. 

“Miss Hays,” a voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Her head shot up, breaths coming in and out quickly and her eyes wide with fear. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. And what was all that about?” Dutch’s voice was soft and calming. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat before speaking up. “I-I’m fine. That.. His name is Thomas and he’s a bastard. I joined him and his friends last night for a game because I needed the money and he wasn’t all that happy that I was winning. He followed me back to the hotel I’ve been staying at and threatened me.” She felt her eyes glaze over as she remembered the previous night. 

“Did he hurt you?” Arthur spoke up with a sympathetic tone. 

She shook her head. “No.. no, not any worse than he did just now.” 

Dutch spoke up again. “You said you’re stayin’ in a hotel, can I ask why?” 

She sighed and closed her eyes. “I had to leave my previous home. It's not safe for me to stay there, so I went as far south as I could and it led me here.” 

He put a soft hand on her shoulder and she met his gaze. “If you’re in need of a home, we can help you. We’ve got our own family of people that need help and protection.” He could sense hesitation without her even speaking up. “We’ll keep you safe. Nothing bad will happen to you again.” 

Catherine looked into his eyes and saw nothing but genuine kindness, something she hadn’t seen a lot of since leaving home. She smiled weakly. “Thank you, Mr. Van der Linde.” 

“Call me Dutch.” 


	3. There’s A First Time For Everything

The life of an outlaw was one that Catherine never imagined herself living. She had been with the gang for almost a month at this point, and it was a major adjustment to the way of life she was used to. Sleeping on a cot instead of a mattress, feasting on stew and alcohol every night, and not being able to bathe or put on fresh clothes regularly were some of the biggest adjustments she had to make. 

One morning, while Catherine was busy with chores, Dutch had called her over to his tent. 

He was finishing off a cigar as she walked up to him. “You’ve been with us for a while now and I think it’s time to see what you’re made of.” 

She looked at him confused. “What do you mean?” 

Arthur chuckled as he walked past the pair towards his horse. “Saddle up, Miss Hays. It’s your time t’shine out there.” 

Dutch spoke again, “You’re going with Arthur and Javier to rob a stagecoach.” Before she even had time to protest he spoke up again. “They need a nice, young woman like yourself to distract the driver while they get the money from the back.” 

She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and looked down at her hands, thinking over the information. All she had to do was keep the driver busy, which shouldn’t be too hard if she played the “damsel in distress” card, and she trusted Arthur and Javier to be good at finding the money and getting out of there quickly. Hell, even if she said no Dutch would probably still make her go. 

Catherine looked back up at the man standing before her and nodded. “Okay, yeah. Seems easy enough.” 

* * *

The group rode out through Tall Trees and towards the river that ran past it. Catherine was to wait for the stage to approach her and get the driver to stop while her companions hung back and waited for the perfect opportunity to break into the safe in the back. She left her horse among the trees in the forest, made herself look shaken up and disheveled, and sat against a tree by the side of the road as she waited. 

Arthur and Javier stayed among the trees, farther back than Catherine to remain hidden, and readied themselves for the attack. 

As the stagecoach started to appear down the road, Catherine got into character. She clutched at her leg and yelled in pain, playing up the idea that she was injured. The stage got closer and she began waving her free arm in the air and yelling towards the driver. “Help! Someone, please help me! I need help!” 

Upon hearing her cries, the driver stopped the vehicle. “Are you alright miss?” He said with worry in his voice. 

Catherine pretended to tense in pain. “It’s my leg, I think it’s broken.” At this point the driver had gotten down from his seat and started to walk to her. From the corner of her eye she noticed Arthur and Javier creep out of the trees and approach the back of the stage. “My horse bucked me and I landed funny.” 

Just as the man bent down to help her, a small “Shit!” was yelled from one of the men behind the stage. The driver whipped around to the source of the noise before turning back to the woman in front of him. He looked down at her leg and noticed how it didn’t seem to be bleeding or bent at an awkward angle. “Now hold on, your leg ain’t broken!” He almost yelled. 

She looked at him in terror. Her eyes shot a quick glance at the back of the vehicle and noticed Arthur looking her way cautiously. The man in front of her stood up and yelled, “What are you playing at? You robbing me?”

The next few seconds seemed to be in slow motion. The driver started to reach for his gun that was mostly concealed by his black jacket. Catherine’s hand, in an almost subconscious reaction, flew to her revolver and practically ripped it from the holster. Without even thinking she aimed it at the driver’s chest and shot a bullet in the general area of where his heart was. 

She seemed to snap back into reality as the shot rang out. Upon realizing what she had done, she dropped the pistol and her hands flew to her face. She watched the man before her stumble and fall backwards, laying perfectly still on the ground. A small pool began to form around the man’s body and she felt sick. Her head was spinning and she felt light headed. Tears began to spill down her face as she tried to pry her eyes from the man’s corpse, but they seemed glued to the one spot. 

Catherine hadn’t even noticed Arthur jog over to her until he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Hey, we gotta get outta here,” he said with a calm voice, though she detected a hint of impatience.

She looked at him for a few seconds, head still racing and eyes blinking repeatedly to try and clear the tears. He grasped both of her hands and pulled her to her feet before bending down to grab her gun and slip it back in the holster. She tried to move but her legs felt like jelly and threatened to collapse with each step. 

Arthur, almost annoyed with how she was visibly shaken up from the situation, slung an arm around her shoulders and hurried her back to the horses. 

Catherine looked over her shoulder several times as they walked, occasionally gesturing to the scene behind them. “W-what about the.. the man-“ 

“Leave him,” he cut her off. “Someone’ll find him and make sure the body is taken care of.” 

Javier was already on his horse when the two got back to their steeds. He was counting out bills and handed each of them a few before stuffing the rest into his saddle bag. “$250. Dutch will be happy,” he said with a chuckle. 

Catherine stared at the money in her hand, resisting the urge to throw it on the ground as it seemed to burn a hole in her skin. She didn’t want this money if it had a man’s blood on it. A man whose life  _ she _ ended. 

_ She was a killer.  _

_ She took a man’s life.  _

_ She was not the person she thought she was.  _

Catherine was completely silent the entire ride back to camp, getting lost in her thoughts as the two men chatted away. Even as they hitched their horses and the other gang members seemed to celebrate the take, she avoided conversation and made a beeline to her tent. As she sat down on her cot another wave of sobs started to rack through her body uncontrollably. 

She didn’t care how loud she cried or who heard, she just hoped that no one would bother asking what was wrong. While living with a group of outlaws it was damn near impossible to avoid killing, and she knew it. 

But she couldn’t shake the guilt that overtook her. A month ago her brother and closest friend was  _ ripped  _ from her life, and now she had done the same to someone else. 

She was on the same level as Calvin. That thought alone  _ terrified  _ her. 

Catherine cried for a good fifteen minutes before falling asleep on her cot. By the time she had woken up it was dark and the soft strumming of a guitar mixed with drunken singing could be heard not far from her tent. While she was not hungry in the slightest bit, she decided to at least grab a drink to dull the headache she felt from crying so much. 

As she opened the flap to her tent and walked out she noticed Arthur sitting in his own makeshift room across from her. He looked up as she closed the canvas behind her and seemed to immediately notice something was wrong. Maybe it was her defeated stance, maybe it was the fact that the area around her eyes was still puffy and slightly red. Either way, his face seemed to fall as they made eye contact and Catherine, feeling self conscious from being stared at, turned away and kept walking as her face burned. 

She made a beeline to Pearson’s wagon and grabbed a bottle of beer. Even though no one seemed to be paying her any mind, she still felt like she needed to be alone. After looking around one final time to make sure she wouldn’t be followed, she trudged to the edge of the cliff that their camp was set up on and sat against a boulder. 

Letting out a deep sigh, she looked at the world around her. The camp looked over a vast field that sat on the bank of a river. The area did not see much activity from people, aside from the occasional train that would pass through. During the day the field was occupied by a number of animals, big and small, just peacefully going about their day. 

The sound of light footsteps approaching her dragged her out of her thoughts. Her head turned to the source of the sound as her intruder stepped on a twig, causing a loud snap that disrupted the quiet atmosphere. 

She was met with a familiar, blue-shirt wearing figure whose face was mostly shadowed from his hat. “Evenin’ Mr. Morgan,” she said in a quiet tone. 

“Miss Hays,” he said with a nod. “Mind if I join ya?” 

Catherine scooted over to her right and smiled. “Not at all.” 

Arthur sat down on the ground next to her, a bottle of whiskey dangling from his fingers between his bent knees. He looked out at the field below them and took a sip of his drink. 

“Arthur,” she spoke up beside him in a soft voice, scared to disturb the peaceful mood between them. He turned to look at her though his face was still mostly hidden behind the shadow of his hat. “Did.. Did I ever tell you why I ended up in Blackwater?” 

“Somethin’ ‘bout your home not bein’ safe?” 

Catherine let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “I was engaged. The whole thing was set up by my father to a man I never have and never will love.” She paused and swallowed the lump in her throat. “He was planning to kill his own father so he could take over the family company, and my brother found out. We found him three days later at the bottom of the river.” She looked up at the night sky, desperately trying to prevent the tears in her eyes from falling. 

Arthur studied her face. He noted how the moonlight cast a faint blue tint over her features, making her freckles stand out even more on her pale skin. He watched as a single tear rolled down her cheek and she immediately turned to quickly wipe it away. 

She let out a shaky breath and turned to face him. “I’m sorry about the job earlier.” A pause to collect her thoughts. “I know it must seem like a silly thing to be upset about, but-“ 

He put a hand on her shoulder, causing her to abandon the rest of her sentence. She looked up at him, searching for his eyes that seemed to be lost in the shadow from his hat. “You don’t got nothin’ to be sorry about. It was your first job, and by the way you reacted, first killin’, so no one was expecting you to handle it like someone who has done it hundreds of times already.” He let out a light laugh. “Hell, I remember my first time shootin’ a man. I took it about as well as you did.” 

“What? You can’t be admitting to me that you cried?” 

He smiled down at her. “Oh yeah, I cried like a baby. Jus’ don’t let anyone know, John will be teasin’ me ‘til the end of time if he found out.”

She let out a laugh, covering her mouth with the free hand that wasn’t loosely gripping the bottle of beer she had barely touched. “I guess Arthur Morgan isn’t truly the big, bad outlaw that I thought he was.” 

The two sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before Catherine spoke up again. “Arthur?” He looked over at her once again. “Thank you, for everything. You’re pretty much the only one that I’ve been able to consider a friend this past month or so.” 

He gave her a genuine smile. “It's my pleasure, Catherine.” 

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, referring to Arthur as only a ‘friend’ pained her. Her heart ached for something more but she didn’t want to risk ruining their existing friendship. 


	4. Misadventures In Mail Delivery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly I would just like to say that I am so, so sorry for not updating sooner! I started college this past fall and school plus just the general state of the world has drained my creativity lately. Luckily I started replaying Red Dead so I have so much newfound motivation for this story! I have a lot planned for this that I am super excited about and I hope you enjoy reading!
> 
> Warnings: Canon-typical violence, kidnapping (nothing too out of the ordinary for this series tbh)

It had been about two weeks or so since the incident with the stagecoach, and Catherine had definitely been keeping busy around camp. Mrs. Grimshaw quickly put her to work with the laundry, dishes, and assisting Pearson with the stew preparation. Adjusting to the life of an outlaw was a slow and strange process, especially after never having to do regular chores prior her entire life, but it was starting to feel normal. She even picked up new skills and hobbies that she enjoyed, like sewing, despite how many times she pricked herself while Tilly taught her the basics.

Catherine awoke to a particularly chilly morning and quickly got dressed in an effort to block out the cold air. A simple long-sleeved maroon shirt and a pair of black jeans, that she actually preferred over skirts after wearing them so often, accompanied her riding boots. She ran a brush through her tangled hair, taking time to pay special attention to a stubborn knot in the back, before putting it in a simple plait. 

As she exited her small tent she raised her arms up and stretched, groaning a bit when her lower back popped a bit. Like every morning, she made a beeline to the fire and grabbed a cup of coffee. 

Hosea called her over to the table he was currently sat at. “Would you mind taking a ride into town to pick up the mail?” 

She gave a quick nod at him before downing the rest of her coffee. “Of course! What do we need?” 

“Mrs. Grimshaw ordered some clothes and there are probably some letters for Dutch and myself.” 

“Sounds good. I’ll get a move on now.” They shared a smile before Hosea returned his attention to the book in his lap and Catherine headed back to her tent. She grabbed the dark blue jacket that was slung on top of her clothing trunk before walking over to where Arthur, John, and Lenny were standing and enjoying their coffee. “Morning fellas,” she said with a warm smile as she pulled the jacket on. 

The group replied with their own nods and small ‘morning’s of acknowledgement before she spoke up again. “Well I’m heading into town to grab the mail, any of you need me to pick up somethin’ from the store?” 

Arthur spoke up first. “A pack of cigarettes would be nice.” 

She looked between the other two as they just shook their heads. “Can do, Mr. Morgan. I should be back in an hour or so.” 

* * *

The ride into town went smoothly as always. Catherine passed only a few people on the road, as the sun was still just over the horizon, and stopped at the post office first. She collected everything they needed, a stack of letters addressed to the ringleaders of the gang and a package for Miss Grimshaw. She securely strapped the package to the back of her horse before slipping the letters into the saddlebags and walking to the general store. 

Catherine made a quick lap around the store, picking up Arthur’s request as well as a can of peaches for herself and some candies for Jack. As she stood at the counter to pay she felt someone staring at her and quickly looked around the store before taking note of the man paying a little too much attention to the box of biscuits in his hand. She passed the clerk a few bills before gathering her things and returning to her horse.

As she was putting the things into the saddlebags, that same looming presence of someone watching made itself known once again. Catherine quickly slipped the cigarettes and chocolate bar into the inner pocket of her jacket before she mounted and spurred her horse into a gallop to get out of town as fast as possible. When she was barely half a mile out of town the sound of steady hooves following her seemed to grow louder with each passing moment. She spared them a quick glance over her shoulder before turning off of the road and into the thick forest of Tall Trees. 

Her mare protested every time she was spurred on to keep up her pace, but the stead never once slowed down. Catherine ducked and weaved through low hanging branches, keeping a hand held out in front of her face to avoid any collisions. 

The sound of hooves only faded for a moment as she ducked into the forest before reappearing almost twice as loud. A small “shit!” escaped her lips as the sound of hooves and the edge of Tall Trees grew closer. 

Catherine failed to realize that she was nearing a small cliff and, before she could slow down, her horse slid down the slope uncontrollably. Her mare began to freak out, frantically trying to regain its footing on the loose dirt and rocks, and bucked her off in the process. She fell to the ground with a hard thud, pain in her chest and the air fully gone from her lungs. 

Between ragged breaths as she lay on the ground, trying to regain her breathing, she noticed the sounds of hooves had stopped and steady footsteps crunching leaves began to approach her. She tried to reach for her pistol but one of the men shot a bullet next to her head, obviously missing on purpose.

“The boss is gonna be very happy about this,” the other man chucked. The last thing she saw was her mare sprinting off in the direction of camp before the butt of a rifle knocked her out cold. 

* * *

“Hey, Lenny!” Arthur called to the man on guard duty as he walked towards his horse. “Has Miss Hays gotten back yet?”

He adjusted the rifle in his hand as he turned to look back at the man behind him. “No, I haven’t seen her.”

“Damn, I could use that pack of cigarettes she promised.” No sooner than the words left his mouth did the steady gallop of hooves start to approach the camp. The two men looked towards the sound expecting to see the woman they were just discussing, but were met with her dark brown mare barreling down the path. Arthur, wasting no time at all, instinctively put his hands up to slow the horse and grab the reins. He calmed her down enough that she stopped moving, though she was still shaking her head and huffing from the unfamiliar contact. 

The two men shared a glance before Lenny spoke up. “Well,” he exhaled. “This ain’t good.”

* * *

The world was a haze around Catherine as she started to come to her senses. The room she was in was mostly dark, with a small stream of light peeking in from the torn curtain. She blinked a few times to get her eyes adjusted to the space around her. It was a small room, with a mattress pushed against the opposite corner of the room and a table covered in playing cards and empty cigarette cartons next to her. 

Her mouth was dry and tasted like metal. Her vision was still blurry from the darkness, but she could still tell her eyes were very swollen. Despite her whole body screaming and protesting against her, she tried to move. Her muscles ached against the rope tied around her hands and legs. 

She stopped struggling when a male voice spoke up outside. “How much longer do we have to be in this shithole?”

Another man replied, “Another day or two, probably. Just waiting on Calvin to send word for us to send her back.” 

She felt her stomach churn. Of _course_ he was behind this. 

The door to the cabin swung open and she could vaguely make out the shape of a man walking towards her. “Look who’s awake, boys!” As he walked closer she recognized the figure to be the man that shot at her earlier.

“I’d rather die than go back to that rat,” she spat, struggling against the ropes. 

The man laughed and crouched down next to her. “As much as I would love to make that happen,” he said with a smile. “I’m afraid Mr. Foster specifically requested you be returned alive so he could decide exactly what to do with you.” He lifted up a hand to her cheek, stroking the soft skin with his thumb. _God_ , she wanted to throw up. Or punch him in the face. “Pity though, that he gets to have all the fun with you. I bet you’d make a very-” 

Before he could continue she moved her face to the right towards his hand and bit down hand, directly at the base of his thumb. He yanked his hand back and grabbed it, making sure that he wasn’t bleeding. Catherine looked at him with fire in her eyes and he returned the gaze with pure anger. “You _bitch!!_ ” he yelled, using his opposite hand to slap her across the face. Her head went back and hit off the hardwood of the wall behind her, a yelp of pain escaping her lips. The world started to spin around her and her vision started to get hazy. She vaguely heard the man spew some string of curse words at her before she blacked out.

* * *

The second time she woke was to gunfire outside of the small cabin. The men that captured her were not only yelling a lot between each other, but she had a feeling that they were losing the fight as well. 

“Check inside, we’ll keep watch out here,” a distant voice said. It sounded hazy and muffled as it broke through the ringing of her ears.

The door to the house opened and she tightly shut her eyes from the heavy moonlight. After a moment she opened them to see a figure approaching her, to which she instinctively curled her bruised body further into a ball. Her figure shook violently from fear and the cold air surrounding her.

“Hey, s’okay. I ain’t gon’ hurt ya.” the figure spoke up in a soft tone. The voice was deep and gravelly but also gentle. One that felt familiar and safe.

She looked up with tears in her half-lidded eyes and said, “Arthur?” Her voice was weak and sounded almost like a wheeze.

“Shhh, it’s alright. We’re gon’ getcha outta here.” He carefully cut the ropes on her arms and hands. “Can ya walk?” When Catherine slowly shook her head Arthur bent down to slide his arms under her legs and behind her back. He hoisted her body up- to which she let out a loud cry of pain- and walked back out of the small cabin, careful to not hit her against the doorframe. She rested her head against his chest as they walked to try and stop the world from spinning around her.

For the first time in what was probably days she felt safe. 

“Take her back to camp,” another voice spoke up. “We’ll stay back for a bit and make sure no one is left.” Arthur sat her on the front of his horse’s saddle and carefully got in behind her to assure she wouldn’t fall during the ride. 

As they rode off back towards camp Catherine kept her head propped up against Arthur’s chest with her eyes closed, desperately trying to ignore the aching pain her body felt as the horse galloped. Her right hand clutched the front of his shirt, her legs dangling over the side of the horse, and a few stray tears leaked out of her eyes. 

“Well be back soon, just stay with me.” She felt his chest rumble against her head as he spoke and groaned out in pain, to which he instinctively wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I know it hurts but we’ll be back soon.” 

She started to feel lightheaded and groggy. Using the last of her strength, Catherine opened her puffy eyes and looked up at Arthur. “Wasn’t.. O’Driscolls,” she murmured, voice nearly giving out at the end. 

The last thing she heard was Arthur’s confused “What?” before her field of view was swallowed into blackness and she slipped out of consciousness again. 

* * *

Catherine didn’t remember much of what happened after that. She remembered a lot of yelling, people rushing around, and what she thinks was Arthur and Lenny talking. When she was finally fully conscious she woke up to a very dry mouth and almost every part of her body in pain. She looked at her surroundings and realized she was back at camp, in her tent, with Hosea reading a book beside her cot. Upon noticing her awake he smiled and shut the book, and reaching for a cup of water he had resting on the crate next to her. 

“Good to see you awake, Catherine.” He helped her lean up and drink, reminding her to go slow and breathe so she didn’t choke. “You gave us all quite the scare.” 

Before she could reply the flap to her tent was opened and Arthur’s familiar hat peaked in. “Glad to see you’re up.”

She felt the corner of her mouth turn up in a light smile at his voice. Hosea waved Arthur in and stood before saying, “I’ll let you catch her up on everything, but make sure she eats something and gets a lot of rest.” He gave Arthur a pat on the arm before leaving and closing the tent’s canvas. 

“How..” she started, struggling to speak as her throat was still sore and voice was almost gone. “How long was I out?” 

Arthur sat down in the chair next to her and leaned back. “A few days. You’ve been in and out a couple times, but never as aware as ya’ are now. Hell, Reverend was considerin’ reading you yer last rights last time you were conscious.” They shared a chuckle at the thought before Arthur continued. “Took a hell of a beating back there but at least Miss Grimshaw will go easy on you for a while.”

Arthur looked at her for a second and took in her features. “Do you have any idea who those men were? ‘Cause you said they ain’t O’Driscolls when we were coming back to camp.” 

She let out a sigh. “Yeah, I do.” Her gaze shifted from him to the canvas covering the top of the tent. “Calvin sent them. The man I was supposed to marry.” 

He looked down at his feet and nodded, before looking back up at her a moment later. “I’m guessing he’s not too happy you left your old life?” 

Catherine’s eyes returned to the man next to her. “Not at all.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked down at her hands, her thumbs fidgeting together in her lap. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this. I didn’t want to get you all wrapped into more problems than you already have.” 

Arthur leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Catherine,” he said with a sincere tone, “You’re a part of this gang now, which makes you family. And as a family one person’s problems become a concern for all of us. If this son of a bitch shows his face again we’ll take care of it.” 

She smiled at the sincerity of his words, tears threatening her eyes. The two sat in silence for a moment, enjoying each other’s company before a thought popped into her head. “Oh!” she said suddenly. “Is my horse alright?”

Arthur chuckled at her concern. “She’s perfectly fine. An hour or two after you left she showed back up at camp without you, so me and Lenny figured you were in trouble. Real smart girl you got there, seeing as she was able to bring herself all the way back to camp on her own.” 

Catherine smiled at the good news. “Thank god she’s alright.” Her eyes drifted to the trunk on the floor next to Arthur’s chair and she spotted her jacket laying on top of it. “Arthur, could you grab my jacket for me?” She gestured with her right hand to where it lay and he picked it up before gently laying it on the bed next to her. “Before I forget,” she said with a smirk as she reached into the pocket on the inner lining. “You might be wanting these.” She handed over the, now slightly squashed, pack of cigarettes to him.

He laughed as he accepted the gift, having nearly forgotten that he even asked for them. “Thank you very much, Miss Hays.” 

“Consider it payment for rescuing me from my captors.”


	5. Campfire Confessions

“I already told you everything she told me, Dutch!” 

Catherine awoke to the sounds of Arthur’s disgruntled yelling. Judging by how bright the slice of sunlight peeking into her tent was, she could tell it was way past her usual wake up time. It was probably closer to noon that dawn, which instantly sent a panic over her because of how many times she would wake up to Susan’s voice yelling at her to get up for chores. 

She carefully got out of bed, being careful not to get dizzy when standing up and paying attention to not put too much weight on her left foot. After getting dressed she stepped outside into the dry morning air and spotted Arthur, Hosea and Dutch gathered together at the table by the leader’s tenf. 

The three were consumed by conversation as she approached them, but Arthur noticed her walking- well, more-so limping- and moved out of the way to pull out a chair at the table for her. 

“Well,” Arthur spoke in a stern tone. “Why dontcha ask her yourself?” 

Catherine took a seat and looked over at the older men across from her. “What do you need to know?”

Hosea was the first to speak up. “We’re concerned about the events of the past few days. Arthur told us that you knew the man responsible for your capture, and that it wasn’t the O’Driscolls,” he sent a pointed glare towards Dutch with the name of his rival, no doubt for him jumping to conclusions earlier about Colm’s involvement in the matter. “We just want to know who did this and what his motivation would be, if you had any idea?” 

Catherine let out a sigh and sat back in her chair. “Calvin Foster is his name, absolute bastard of a man,” her voice dripped with venom as she spoke. “The only things he’s after in life are money and power. And now me, I guess, because I took those two things away from him.” 

“And how exactly did you do that?”

“We were supposed to be married but I left two weeks before the wedding after he killed my brother. It’s a long story, but we were only marrying because both of our fathers have a lot of money and influence in Virginia.”

“And he wants to be sure your family keeps their side of the bargain,” Dutch interjected, connecting the dots himself.

“Exactly.” Catherine was quiet for a moment before leaning forward on her elbows. “Look, I’m sorry for dragging you all into this mess. Calvin is a  _ rat _ , but he can’t be worse than the Pinkertons or O’Driscolls that are already chasing us. Though, I truly don’t know how he found me.” 

Dutch stood up from his seat. “Luckily,” he gestured to her specifically before waving his hand around in a grand gesture, the same way he always did when announcing a new scheme. “We won’t have to worry about that much longer because there are plans for a big job in Blackwater! After that we can get the hell out of here and keep going west into untamed land!” 

“Now Dutch, I’m not too sure about that,” Hosea spoke up with a nervous tone. “That tip you got doesn’t seem all that solid, maybe we should keep looking for a little while longer for something better to go for, don’t you think?” 

The leader only waved him off. “It will be fine, gentlemen. Nothing to worry about. Now you,” he pointed his gaze back at Catherine, “need to take it easy for the meantime. You’re staying in camp just in case anymore of that bastard’s men are out looking, and make sure you’re resting that leg.” 

* * *

As the night started to wind down, spirits were high and alcohol was being consumed. Dutch had decided to have a small impromptu “party”, which was more of just an excuse to decompress after an overly-eventful week rather than celebrating anything major. 

The sun was almost fully set, casting a warm glow of oranges and dark pink over camp, only amplified by the fire towards the far side of the settlement. Lenny was sitting alone at the fire, nursing a bottle of beer as his vision flickered between the golden flames and a certain someone across camp. He kept staring for a while longer than intended, but was pulled from his thoughts when a voice from behind him abruptly spoke up. “Y’know,” Catherine said with a smirk, standing beside the log he was slummed upon. “You should probably go talk to her instead of staring a hole into the side of her head all night.” 

He looked back at her and tried to fake confusion while ultimately failing. “What are you talking about?” 

She chuckled as she sat next to him. “Everyone can see the way you look at her, just make a move already.” 

Lenny scoffed and looked away to take a sip of his beer. “I could say the same to you and Mr. Morgan.”

She cocked her brow and gave him her best accusatory face before replying in a low tone, “Excuse me?”

“Oh come on, everyone can see you’re both sweet on each other!” 

She instantly looked away, thankful for the glow of the fire to hide the blush rising on her cheeks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replied quickly, trying to hold in a smile from forming on her lips. 

“You gotta be blind to not see the way he stares at you, especially in the mornings when he thinks no one will notice. Plus, I can tell your eyes light up when someone says his name, or how you get nervous around him or-“

“Alright, hush! I get it!” She turned back towards him and slapped a hand over his shoulder before looking around to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation. Her eyes stopped on the view just outside of Dutch’s tent. Mary-Beth and Arthur were dancing to the upbeat music playing from their leader’s prized gramophone. She felt her face drop as she watched Arthur say something to her, to which she responded with a hearty laugh. 

“Well,” she spoke up after a moment, voice a low tone. “It doesn’t matter, I don’t think things would go anywhere anyway.” 

Lenny had followed her line of sight and sighed. “Catherine, that don’t mean anything. He treats all of the girls like that.” 

“He’s never asked me to dance,” she replied in a mumble, looking down at the dirt by her feet. 

“I can assure you he’s only over there dancin’ with her because she asked. So, maybe he will if  _ you _ ask him.” 

Catherine looked back over at where Arthur and Mary-Beth were just a few moments ago, but instead of seeing the two dancing she spotted Jenny sitting at the table and chatting with Tilly and Karen. She made note of Jenny looking over her way before bashfully turning away to focus her attention on whatever story Karen was telling her. “Hey,” Catherine spoke up, nudging her knee into Lenny’s leg beside her. “I see one lonely girl bored out of her mind over there. I bet she would love to dance with someone.” He lifted his head to see where she was referring to and just happened to catch Jenny side-eyeing him with a smile. “Go talk to her, please.” He looked back over at her with a hesitant expression and she sighed. “Fine. What if we make a deal.” 

He gestured for her to continue and she leaned forward, elbows on her knees, to think. “Alright,” she began. “If you work up the courage to go talk to her, I’ll do something to-”

Before she got a chance to finish, Arthur had walked up to the pair of them. He had removed his weapons save for his gun belt and pistol and had left his overcoat in his tent. As he approached the two he noticed them staring, in an almost guilty way, as if he had stumbled upon two kids plotting a secret plan against their parents. “You two plottin’ somethin’?”

Catherine shook her head to bring her thoughts back to reality and straightened her posture before replying. “Y-yes, we are. Lenny over here is too nervous to go talk to the girl he’s sweet on and I'm trying to get him to just get over his fears and go talk to her.” 

Arthur chuckled and shook his head before sitting down on a log across from them. “Young love.. I remember how that feels.” He directed his attention towards Lenny with his next sentence. “Go talk to her, kid. Believe me, you’ll regret it if you don’t.” 

Lenny looked between the two of them and once he realized they wouldn’t be letting up anytime soon he sighed and got up. Instinctively, he dusted off his clothes and adjusted his shirt collar before nervously walking over to where the girls were chatting. 

Catherine watched with a smile as he walked off. “Thank you for that, I’ve been trying to convince him to do something for a while.” 

“No worries, I could see her eyeing him from halfway across camp thinking no one would notice.” His gaze shifted to his feet. “I remember being in love once, thought it was the only thing in life that mattered. ‘Course, that ain’t the truth, but it still feels nice to be in love.”

Catherine felt a jolt of confidence strike her and she spoke up, looking at Arthur carefully. “Is there anyone you’re eyeing up now?” 

He chuckled at her question and shook his head. “No.. no not at the moment. Even if I was I know that no one’ll have a big oaf like me.” 

She felt het face fall at his words. “Now Arthur, that’s not true at all. Any woman would be lucky to have you, trust me. You’re a better man than you think.” 

He titled his head to look up at her, but the glow of the fire cast a shadow from his hat over his eyes. “You mean that?”

A smile formed on her lips and she looked at the darkness where his eyes were hidden. “Of course. Hell, I’d probably be back in Virginia living a horrible life with a rat bastard as my husband if it wasn’t for you.” 

“Yeah.. I s’pose that’s true.” He felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. "I'm glad you're still with us, Miss Hays." 

"Me too, Mr. Morgan. Me too."


End file.
